


Initiation

by Fudgyokra



Series: Kinktober 2020 [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman vs. Robin (2015)
Genre: Begging, Blood, Bondage, Court of Owls, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Humiliation, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Noncontober, Painful Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:34:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27022075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fudgyokra/pseuds/Fudgyokra
Summary: “That’s it.” Talon said it like a praise, and Damian’s heart dropped well before the man continued. “I knew you’d be useful to us yet.”
Relationships: Talon/Damian Wayne
Series: Kinktober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930009
Comments: 10
Kudos: 34





	Initiation

**Author's Note:**

> No editing, we die liek mne.
> 
> Day 15: Rape with an audience

There were a great many negative attributes Damian could ascribe to the Court of Owls, but if the past several minutes have taught him anything, it is that the masks they wore were as wicked as the faces beneath them.

His body already ached from the time he’d spent strapped face-down in the center of the auditorium, put on cruel display with each of his limbs bound to the corners of the table that propped him up, but his pride hurt infinitely worse. Everywhere he looked, he saw expressionless peons judging him, tittering and marveling from behind hundreds of sharp beaks. Even in such a large room, the packed stands circling the perimeter made him feel as though he were pinned by everyone’s gazes, free to rain down from their safe, collective perch. Damian never wanted to see another owl again.

For at least a moment, he got his wish. When his vision was obscured by dark fabric, a glance upward revealed that it was Talon who had stepped in front of him, too close for comfort. He grasped strangely gently at Damian’s chin, sliding a gloved thumb back and forth over the skin just beneath his bottom lip.

Damian scowled. “You will _lose_ that hand if you do not stop touching me _immediately._ ”

“It’s part of your initiation,” he was told, the speaker putting no inflection in his words even as he jammed his thumb past Damian’s lips, wringing a scandalized sound out of him before he gathered his wits and bit down.

Talon did nothing more than grunt, even as Damian’s teeth dented the glove and put pressure on the skin beneath. His free hand reached up and snatched the pressure points of Damian’s jaw, forcing his mouth open and then three fingers inside instead of the thumb.

When Damian gagged violently around the intrusion, murmurs spread through the crowd above him, putting a burn of shame on his face before he could tell himself to ignore them. The fingers probed all the way to the back of his throat, pressing on his tongue, which involuntarily undulated against the sudden pressure. He focused on restraining any further noises, but in his attempt to, he’d let his jaw go slack.

“That’s it.” Talon said it like a praise, and Damian’s heart dropped well before the man continued. “I knew you’d be useful to us yet.”

At once, the fingers began pumping in and out, toward Damian’s throat with such vigor on each pass that he could no longer restrain the wet choking noises of his mouth being violated. Talon grabbed harder at his jaw, until Damian knew the skin there would bruise, and shoved in as far as he could go, until he could skim his thumb over the curve of Damian’s top lip.

What Damian hated more than this sick display was his own inability to fight the saliva that pooled as Talon worked, until it dripped in strands down his chin and to the floor. Seeming satisfied by it, Talon finally moved away, taking a wise step back so Damian couldn’t snap his teeth at the retreating hands. He certainly tried,but afterward he couldn’t seem to move at all, frozen stiff by the hundreds of faces still staring down at him like they were simply watching theater.

At first, the only real things Damian felt were annoyance and embarrassment, even in spite of the knowledge he could truly die here, but the moment Talon unzipped his pants, the emotion that crested all others was sudden, seizing panic.Surely, Talon didn’t intend to…

“My initiation is to killyou,” Damian spat, fidgeting in his restraints with no leeway. “Not to be put on display for this—” He immediately shut up when the zipper came down and Talon’s cock, already hard and darkened with need—how long had he been _thinking_ about doing this?—bobbed in front of his face. On instinct, he tried to jerk backward when a hand fisted in his hair, but it did him little good.

“You seemed to balk at the concept. And, really, is there a better way to give you a proper motive?” If Talon ever smiled, Damian had no doubt he would be now.

He wished he could make himself look away, whether up at Talon’s face or down at the floor. He wished he could do anything but stare at the way Talon’s hand stroked his own cock, black glove against pink flesh. “If you bite,” he said, “I’ll sever your head from your neck and fuck your throat all the way through.”

Damian paled, scowl falling. Above him, light laughter rumbled through the Court, a sound forever imprinted in his brain alongside the dry, matter-of-fact way Talon threatened him, no doubt meaning his words.

Without waiting for any sign of agreement, Talon shoved the first two fingers of each hand into Damian’s mouth, prying the corners of his lips wide in a humiliating gape before shoving his cock in alongside them. The set pace was brutal from the start, with thrusts hard enough to choke him and quick enough to make his throat squelch on each jab, and the only thing he was able to focus on was the _pain_ of it, searing enough that the previous threat already seemed to ring true.

Soon, Talon slowed, dragging his whole length in and out of Damian’s abused throat, catching each time on his swollen bottom lip, and then, in one sudden movement, forced himself all the way in to the base. Damian clenched his hands to keep them from instinctively fidgeting, even as Talon pinched his nose to block off his oxygen and held there, pelvis flush with Damian’s face. A punishment for his prey and a present for the audience in equal measure.

Keeping his fingers curled against his palms was all Damian could do to withstand the constant give-and-take of airflow as he was tossed between the rough fucking that made his nose run and saliva streak down his chin, and the slow grinding against his lips every so often at Talon’s whim. The man gave no signs of letting up. Damian wondered how long he was to be the Court’s entertainment. Perhaps all night. Perhaps _longer._

His mistake was shuddering at the thought.

“You like it, don’t you?” Talon finally pulled back, allowing Damian to huff the air he needed so desperately while ignoring the question altogether. He felt for the first time how disgustingly wet his face was. Tears and mucus and spit, and something else that Damian fought hard to avoid naming in his thoughts.

As he heaved on the table, Talon circled around him, slowly trailing a hand down Damian’s spine as he went. “I feel you shake. You must be desperate for it.”

“I am _not,_ ” Damian rasped. He fought back a flinch at the rough quality to his voice, but lost the composure at the sudden, animalistic tearing of his leggings. The fabric shredded with a sound that seemed to echo in his ears, much like the intrigued _ooh_ of the crowd as Talon got both hands on Damian’s bare ass and spread him open for the room to see.

Despite knowing it wouldn’t work, knowing it wouldn’t do a thing,he struggled in his bonds again, arms and legs only quivering where they were strapped in place. Frustration built in his system like rising steam, and right before he could shout any one of the expletives that wanted out, Talon struck him hard on one cheek, open-palmed and vicious. The only thing that sounded in the room was the slap, forceful enough that he felt the flesh ripple and then sting at the point of contact. Undoubtedly, there would be a hand print there, and when Talon stepped aside to let the crowd marvel, he made a point to unclip Damian’s cape for an optimized view.

He watched the heavy fabric hit the ground and grit his teeth. Being exposed in front of all these criminals, no mask and no cover between his legs, was unbearable. Looking up, he saw many of them tilt to try and catch glimpses, and could only bear it for a few seconds before he had to revert his gaze back to the floor.

“Are we ready for the initiation?” Talon asked the crowd. His fingers sank into Damian’s skin, the tips brushing over his hole to pull him open and show him off to the tune of cacophonous applause. They were ready for this, _wanted_ to see him raped and belittled and hurt. Humiliation burned hot all through him, from his face down to his gut. An unstoppable force, much like the Court.

Talon returned to his proper position, rubbing his cock, slick from Damian’s mouth, against him. “Beg me not to,” he demanded, voice still unblemished by emotion or weariness of any kind while Damian fell apart with every ragged breath through his teeth.

“ _Die,_ ” he hissed in return.

“I cannot, but you certainly can. If you ignore my demands, I would be more than happy to grant that to you.”

All at once, without any preparation or care, Talon shoved the head of his cock inside, stilling just long enough for the raw cry of pain to unleash from Damian’s lungs before forcing in more, inch by inch, rocking back and forth in what felt like an endless loop of wet fire.

Something must have torn. Damian felt seared by the cock inside him, carving its way through his body with no regard for his limits—all for entertainment.This was fun for the Owls, and perhaps, somewhere deep beneath the training, for Talon, too.

“Beg,” he repeated, grabbing Damian’s hips in both hands and slamming the rest of the way in. Damian wailed, unable to reconcile all his pain management training with _this,_ something so foreign and deep and jarring. “Do it, or I put my sword through your heart right now. Let your beloved Batman find you torn open and full of my cum.”

Damian’s next noise was wounded, weak, pathetic. He barely felt as though the words were coming from him when he answered, “Please, don’t.”

Talon pulled out halfway, thrusting back in with another violent snap of his hips, jostling Damian forward on the table. “ _Please,_ ” he repeated, voice cracking, “stop!” This time the cock inside him came out to the tip, resting just long enough for Damian to feel how wide he was stretched around it before it was all the way inside again, stabbing like a knife at untouched parts of him.

Talon, as he had with Damian’s mouth, maintained an unforgiving speed. “Tweet for me, little Robin.” He sank sharp nails into Damian’s hips until blood welled at each tip. “Put on a show.”

Damian didn’t stop trying to kick the entire time, the urge still overcoming his immobile legs as Talon jack-hammered between them, each thrust a fresh agony. “Take it out! You can’t, you can’t, you _won’t—_ ”

Talon fucked him harder, earning another scream. “I won’t? But I am, aren’t I?”

“Don’t do this,” Damian rasped. “No more, no _more._ ”

“You follow instructions well. Good boy.” Talon spoke proudly, and whether that or plain exhaustion finally caught up to him, Damian gave up fighting, letting his body go lax. He bounced against Talon’s hips with lewd smacking sounds, taking every brutal inch of his cock with less resistance now. All the way in, all the way out.

Just as the time began to blur to meaninglessness, Talon, with a sound that was softer than a grunt, emptied his seed inside Damian’s body, jerking with each pulse.

Nausea settled in the pit of Damian’s stomach at the ignition of more applause, thunderous in his ringing ears.

Talon leaned over his back, weight nearly crushing him against the unforgiving table. “Congratulations,” he said, “on your initiation.”


End file.
